when the whole world had its eyes on you
by The Lady Avaritia
Summary: Rabastan, at the very beginning of the downward spiral that his life becomes, and Rodolphus, on the sidelines. For the Forgotten Characters Challenge on HPFFC, with the Lestrange Brothers as my characters.


**Title:** when the whole world had its eyes on you

**Rating: T**  
**Spoilers: G**eneral

**Characters**: Rabastan, Rodolphus

**Summary: while you fell apart at the seams. This, he will never forgive.**

**Disclaimer: **disclaimed

**Author Note: **

**Author: **_Lady Avaritia_

Rabastan's sprawled on the coach in the living room, mere hours after the funeral, when all the annoying guests have left, and his father's body has not yet cooled in its grave, and it seems, oh, Salazar, that's he's finally left alone.

He's closed the door, locked it, bolted the windows and pulled the draperies down, and now he's smoking himself in, slowly, painfully sweet, as empty bottles litter his father's precious rugs and he stares blankly at the fire, emptily wishing he could dance among the flames.

Bastard, he thinks, he had it coming, he thinks, because the bruises have faded, but the old tired ache never will.

The vampire, Josephine, or Jane, or Jessica, he's never met a memorable Jessica in his life, she's young and pretty, with smoldering dark eyes and curly black hair, and she's straddling him, kissing down his neck, while the other, Cassie (this he knows because he is her regular), sinks her fangs into his left wrist slowly, and his grip on the firewhisky bottle drops.

They're trustworthy girls, as are all of Desire's girls. He would've gone to Knockturn Alley, to the Delectable Desires den, had he felt like it. But Desire's girls took home calls as well. Was he terribly worried that two vampires had an invitation to his house? No, not terribly so, he wouldn't say.

'Ah!'

He closes his eyes and sighs as J-whatever grinds against him, while Cassie kisses him full on the mouth, his blood still fresh on her lips, and the taste of tobacco and his own (pure, pure, so fucking pure) blood is oddly erotic.

He waves his hand, and a cigar flies into it from the table, petty wandless tricks he's been doing since fourth year, he lights it with the force of his will, and he takes a deep inhale, holds the smoke in, and exhales a pure white fluffy cloud, right in Cassie's face. She takes the cigarette from his lips without using her hands, and winks at him.

The door opens, and time stills. There's a girl in the threshold. She's not one of his orders, because the two are there. She's pretty, and blonde, with cobalt blue eyes, dressed in a pretty black dress, and, really, really, the hell, seriously? Didn't all the funeral attendees leave?

'Um,' she says.

'That's pretty accurate,' he growls menacingly, voice laced with tobacco and alcohol, and darkness, as he summons his wand from the other end of the room, and it flies effortlessly into his outstretched hand.

'Who are you?' she questions timidly, she's like a lost little lamb, is she one of Rod's? He seems to have one of those on his arm every week, Gods, he's a married man!

'Me? I'm pretty,' he spits out at her, 'but who are you?'

'Monique? Monique?'

Ah, Rod, here he comes, the gallant lord of the house, to save his lost little lamb from his menacing little brother.

'I'm here, Rod,' she squeaks, a little terrified, and a bit closer to tears than she was before.

Rod appears in the doorway too, still very prim and proper looking in his black robes. He pinches the bridge of his nose, and sends his brother and exasperated look, his dark chocolate eyes accusing, like, _really, Rab, in the house Rab, again, Rab, really_?

And he suddenly feels very, very self-conscious of how he looks – He's sprawled on the coach, bottle in one hand, and his wand in the other, his wrist and neck bleeding, his dark silk shirt unbuttoned and practically torn off his chest, and his legs, clad in way-too-tight-to-be-funeral-appropriate pants, which are also unbuttoned, and J-whatsherface kneeling next to him, lips pressed to his neck, while Cassie is straddling him, and both are insanely beautiful vampires in various states of undress of their tight leather clothes, and air is practically poisonous with the cigar smoke, hanging there like city smog.

'Jesse,' he says painfully, 'this is my… sometimes respectable, but clearly not now, younger brother Rabastan Lestrange. Rab, this is my friend, Monique.'

'Another one, huh?' Rab asks. 'At least that one's not taller than you.'

'Rab.'

'Either way, though,' he turns towards Jesse. 'You look like a high-class hooker and I do not mean it as a compliment, sorry ladies.'

Cassie shrugs, and returns to observing the scene with her predator's eyes. Both she and Jessica had stilled the moment the door opened, ready for a fight or flight situation.

'Excuse me?' her eyes widen in rightful indignation.

'You are excused,' he tells her mockingly, 'Really, I pity any self-loathing, insecure, silly creature with daddy-issues who willingly throws herself into my brother's loving arms, for no better reason than because he's rich and handsome, for Salazar's sake, he is a married man now! But I suppose you know that, so it makes you even more of a hooker, as you go into his house, and have sex with him in his bedroom on the bed he shares with his wife, so yes, you are excused. It really isn't your fault for being whiny, needy, dependent and insecure, as I know you are because I spent four years studying psychology in France, and can see it all in your body language, never mind the fact that I'm only staying sober by sheer force of will.'

Monique's eyes widen comically, her lower lips trembles.

'Don't tell me you're gonna cry now, just because I said the truth. Disgusting,' he spits, and turns right back towards Cassie.

'You can leave now, you know,' he calls back, sensing that Rod and Monique are still there. Rod finally leaves with his girl-of-the-week, comforting her silently. He hears the words 'sociopath', 'high-functioning' and 'sadist' come up before the door is shut, and smirks, satisfied.

'Was I bad?' he asks Cassie smugly.

'Oh, yes,' she hisses, voice like cigar smoke.

'Come here and tell me how bad I am,' he beckons, reaching out towards her, the skin of his left forearm clean and perfectly unmarred only for a short while.

~x~

'Did you have to do that?' Rod asks the same night as the two have dinner.

'Yes.' Rab responds with a full mouth.

'She was so upset I couldn't bring myself to do anything.'

'So what? Did I cock-block you? Call yourself a real hooker. Or better yet, talk to your wife!'

'You know Bella's spoken for though we're married, right?' Rod asks exasperatedly, they've been through this a thousand times!

'Yes, yes… The Dark Lord. You know, speaking of, when will I meet him?'

'Soon, Rab,' Rodolphus sighs.

'Good,' Rabastan says harshly. 'I'm getting sick of being in this house.

'Get a job,' his brother sighs tiredly.

'I neither want, nor do I need a job,' Rabastan replies.

'Fine. Be bored and sink in the pit of recreational drugs and expensive vampire whores.'

'At least I'm not cheating on anyone. Honestly, Rod. You keep doing this to them, all those girls. What, you think they don't expect something, you think they don't secretly hope that you will leave your scary dark wife for a pretty innocent girl? Grow up; we all know you went for Narcissa in school.'

'Would've won her if it wasn't for Lucius!'

'Luc's your friend, and mine.'

'Yes. Yes.' Rodolphus sighs yet again. 'You're right. I'll probably end up leaving this one too, in a couple of weeks.'

~x~

A couple of weeks turned into a couple of months, which turned into a couple of years. And by the time all Lestranges were in Azkaban, Monique, Conveniently married off to the second son of the prestigious and pureblood Greengrass family to cover up the scandal, was stroking her round pregnant belly, and hoping to all the gods who would listen that the child looked like her to save her this last bit of shame.

And some years later, Daphne Greengrass, wondered why she was dark haired and dark eyed while her mother, sister, and father were blonde and blue eyed.

And, oh, Rabastan would've gotten such a kick out of it all.


End file.
